


Canyons of Steel and Light

by soniagiris



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Additional Warnings Apply, Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Angst, Canon Compliant, Drabble Collection, Established Relationship, F/F, Ficlet Collection, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Heavy Angst, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Introspection, M/M, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Canon, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-30
Updated: 2019-03-30
Packaged: 2019-05-27 08:13:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15020390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soniagiris/pseuds/soniagiris
Summary: one thing's for certain, oha year like this passes so strangelysomewhere between sorrow and bliss





	1. one.

**Author's Note:**

>   * **additional warnings in the end notes!**
> 


**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   * warnings in the end notes; endgame spoilers
>   * beta by misty @mistropolis, @lod, and vee @ikuzonos, thank you!
> 


_ futaba&ryuji. duty of care _

 

One more line of code, yeah, just like that and...  _ There _ we go. Raising her fists to the ceiling and grinning to herself like a madman, Futaba spins on her chair and — and suddenly remembers that she's not alone. And hasn't been alone for the past four hours. 

Whoops.

"You always this quiet?" Ryuji asks, raising one of his weird-ass brows as he stretches out on the floor, an open manga (Fullmetal, good taste) lying on his chest. "If you weren't doing your hacker stuff, I'd have thought that you were, like, asleep or somethin'..."

"Talking is tiring," Futaba declares, straightening her legs to get out of her favorite position. It's easy to think while she's crouching like that, but, damn, it'll take ages to get the kinks outta her knees. She rubs the left one while grimacing. Fuck.

"What's wrong?"

"Cramps."

"Aw, shit." Ryuji picks himself up and walks to her, where he bends to inspect her poor joint. "Want me to help ya with it?"

"Sure..." Frowning, Futaba watches Ryuji take hold of her knee and press it. 

It... kinda hurts, at first, she can't help but let out a sharp hiss, but then he makes an apologetic grunt and shifts his fingers, and suddenly it's — not bad. Sorta not bad at all.

Huh. She didn't know he could do massages — but, hey, that makes sense, with him being a former athlete and all that. Good for her, anyway, she won't have to waste time on waving her legs around to be able to use 'em again.

"Okay, that's all I can do." With a toothy smile, Ryuji flops down back onto the floor and gives her a thumbs up. "How was that, eh?"

"Nice," Futaba concludes. "Thanks."

"No problem. We gotta take care of each other, yeah?"

"Yeah." She pushes her glasses up. "So, did Akira put you up to that?"

"To what?" He does seem sorta confused.

"To helping me." Futaba gives him a questioning look. "I'm pretty sure he was like, I dunno, 'y'all better watch out for Futaba while I'm gone', wasn't he?"

"Aww..." Ryuji shakes his head. "Man, do you really think he'd need to be like that?"

"...nah," she decides. They grin at each other. "So, weren't we supposed to go for meat bowls today?"

"We totally were." Ryuji accepts a fistbump, then reaches out to ruffle her hair. "Let's go, then."

 

* * *

 

_ ann/shiho. wings _

 

Around the time she was six (or seven? It was in 2007, but she doesn't remember if it was before or after her birthday), Ann spent three days at a local hospital when her  _ au pair _ thought little miss Takamaki's cold was pneumonia. It— it wasn't fun, spending all those hours idle, alone in a bed stinking of disinfection liquid and cheap cotton, scared and assuming her parents wouldn’t ever show up. Ever since then, Ann had done her best to avoid hospitals.

Until now.

The bouquet of marigolds quivers in her sweaty grip, and Ann has to force herself to open the door to Shiho's room. And then all those anxieties flee, because, for  _ fuck's _ sake, she's no longer Annie, the scared lil' model with bright, dumb eyes and no willpower, she's Panther, with a capital P, all fire and rage and skintight leather. She can do this. She steps inside.

To her surprise, she doesn't see Shiho's parents — she met her mother before, kind-hearted Suzui-san who makes the best ochazuke Ann has ever tasted — only the nurse, a tall, dark-skinned woman, who regards her with a considering look, then, after Ann smiles to her, nods. 

"She's asleep," she says, her Japanese accented but otherwise perfect, "but did mention a friend may show up. You're okay to stay, as long as you're quiet."

"Sure, thank you," Ann says with another shaky smile, then puts the flowers on the nightstand and sits on the bed, by Shiho's side. 

Her eyelashes flutter in sleep, and the bruise on her cheekbone has yet to fade. The movement and the unnatural tones in Shiho's skin make the image of a diseased butterfly flash across Ann's mind, but she quickly dismisses the thought as she leans over to run her hand through Shiho's hair. Gently. So, so gently. Then she puts her hand back in her lap and closes her eyes; Carmen hums a song of sorrow and revenge. Ann sings it back, not moving her lips, not formulating any thoughts, just surrounding herself with the feeling of no longer being numb. 

When she opens her eyes, the nurse is gone. Pursing her lips, Ann takes another look at Shiho, so small and childlike in the hospital bed, covered in bandages, her torso wrapped in a cast. Small and still, gone is the girl who laughed at stupid puns, teased everyone to show affection and, when on the court, could fly, free and cheerful. 

"Don't worry," Ann says, reaching out to brush Shiho's hair away from her brow. "This time, I'll be the one to protect you."

 

* * *

 

_ makoto/haru. the girl with petal-shaped words _

 

Redness drips from Haru's clenched fists, as if she dipped her hands in a bucket of paint. Makoto bites her lower lip, then reaches out and takes her friend's palm into hers. 

"Whose blood is this?" she says, mouth and tongue numbed with those horrific words. Haru blinks, then grimaces.

"Most likely... mine." Her sweet, lilting voice doesn't even tremble. Makoto watches her gloves soak up the gore, unable to tear her eyes away from Haru's delicate little fingers, spattered with hundreds of little cuts and bruises. Her skin resembles torn paper, and she inhales sharply when Makoto tightens her grip.

"Sorry. I— My apologies." Letting go of her and calling on the power, Makoto summons Johanna and casts Diarama; it rinses Haru's injuries in its blue light, blue like forget-me-nots and highlighter pens, and soon enough it's almost like nothing happened. Like Futaba didn't ever call Makoto to stutter out that Haru had gone into the Metaverse, without a word, without anyone by her side. 

_ Almost _ like nothing occurred, because Haru's gloves lie discarded on the floor, and the Palace's cold lights wash out the colors, making Haru's brown irises (she has a few freckles in them, Makoto notices) appear almost grey. Her expression, however, stays resolute, just like it did ever since Makoto found her in the depths of this artificial space station, smashing her fists against steel walls without a single word.

"Haru," she says, as gently as she can, then opens her arms as Haru falls into her embrace. Haru is not delicate. She’s sweet and strong, but, in this morbid scenery, she's vulnerable, and Makoto doesn't know if she's the one who can help. 

"Forgive me," Haru whispers into her shoulder, and Makoto finds herself pressing a kiss to the top of her head. Her hair smells like flowers. Like roses, she thinks, and roses have thorns. Sharp like knives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a/n  
> 
>   * **cw: semi-graphic self-harm; blood; canon injury; hospitals talk.**
>   * SURPRISE HEATHENS I DECIDED TO REORGANIZE MY SHORTIES (SHORT FICS UNDER >0.5K). YEET. SHUKITAS GET A SEPARATE MULTICHAP WORK [**(LINK)**](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16794277) AND AKEKITAS WILL BE POSTED AS A 2K SPECIAL AS SOON AS I GET TO 2K. YEET. (i should go to sleep.)
>   * #1 - this is an old thingy i wrote for fun lmao anyway yeah those two kids are friends and that's important
>   * #2 - annshiho is. very important.
>   * #3 - tbh i'm not the biggest fan of makoharu (bad associations), but, well, they're quite cute together. so, y'know, gotta make them sad.
> 



	2. two.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   * **warnings in the end notes**
>   * beta by misty @mistropolis and sparrow @ikuzonos, thank you guys c:
> 


  _makoto/ann. life in technicolor._

 

"C'mon, let's dance!" 

"Ann..." Makoto gives her a long-suffering look. "You know I don't know how to."

"So what?" Bouncing up and down on the heels of her feet, Ann tugs on Makoto's hand again. "It's not about if you can or can't, but about having fun!" She pulls again, and Makoto gets up from her seat with a sigh. The wooden floor feels pleasantly cool under her bare toes, and —  yeah, having her own place, Ann's and hers, is truly nice. She smiles, a bit more relaxed now.

Only if the music Ann put on wasn't so... bombastic. Makoto reaches out with her free hand for the phone and taps on the little arrow until she finds a less offending song, one that is a bit slower and softer. Ann rolls her eyes but doesn't complain, just presses herself closer, hands on Makoto's waist, and begins swaying to the rhythm. Makoto copies her movements, albeit a bit clumsily.

"See?" Ann murmurs, her breath warm on the arch of Makoto's neck. "Dancing. Fun."

"So stubborn," Makoto laughs, looping her arm around Ann's waist. "You're terrible."

"Yet here you are, dating this terrible. What does it say about you, hm, honey?"

"That I've got a good taste," Makoto says with a smile, looking out of the window at the Tokyo's night lights and combing Ann's loose hair with her fingers with her unoccupied hand. "A very good one. And a great deal of luck."

"Flatterer."

"Me? Oh, hardly so." 

Tatami mats that still smell like rice fields. A job in which she can serve others. A beautiful, kind girlfriend, and a closely knit group of friends. Warm bed sheets, sleepy smiles, kisses tasting like Ann's favorite cherry lipstick, cooking supper together while talking about everything and nothing.

Yes, Makoto is quite in luck.

 

* * *

 

_ ryuji/mishima. potato chips _

 

Yep, there Yuki goes, with his displeased frown — and even a freakin' eye roll! Jeez.

"Seriously?" he groans, giving Ryuji a sad look. "Detention? Again? _ Third _ time this month?"

Ryuji shrugs. "What can I say, dude, the sub was a dick to Ann, so I had to step in. Ain't gonna let some shithead treat my friends like that." 

Yuki sighs, sits down on the bench and offers Ryuji a bag of bacon-flavored snacks. All of this he does with such a dejected expression that Ryuji kinda wants to flip a bird to the societal rules and comfort him with a kiss or something. A kiss and a hug. And then another kiss… What? Ryuji's one clingy bitch. Instead, he takes the seat by his boyfriend's side and pats him on the thigh. "Sorry, man."

"You better be," Yuki says, crossing his arms. "I'm sure Ann-san would be perfectly able to defend herself."

"True, true, but—"

"—but you acted first, thought last. As always." Yuki grins. It's a sweet look on him, that dorky effin' smile. "I know you too damn well, Ryuji. And I'm not gonna berate you for being hot-headed once again." He gets up, but before he leaves, he says, "I'm sure Ann-san will do that for me."

Ryuji pouts. Well, ain't that the fucking truth. 

 

* * *

 

_ yusuke. showing all my skin _

 

_ you're alone, and you always will be. _

they smile at you, and you smile back. their happiness has swept you up, like a warm tidal wave, yet it always passes – it has to, it has to, nothing was ever meant to last – and leaves you gasping for air on the cold wet sand, wind whipping. 

you're alone, you live alone, you are going to die alone.

that is what you have always expected, since the deal with the devil who stole your works of art — which felt like he was carving up pieces of your living, bleeding flesh; he took your heart with his dirtied hands, gave it a new name and displayed as his own when masses gazed and gaped. and so you've known since then: on this earth, you will not find a home for yourself. neither home nor anyone who would not betray you.

_ you will be alone, or you will be betrayed. _

does it matter? you smile at your new companions while thinking,  _ ah, there's no place for me with them. _ people like you aren't ones who have any friends, after all.

that is also what your teacher said, and maybe it was a lie, but you can't stop believing otherwise.

you're tired. you're exhausted. you're dying. you're already dead dead  _ dead. _

so you go back to that pathetic shack, go back to the room that soon will not be yours, and you curl up on the bed, staring at your loose fists. you wish you were able to cry, but that's another thing which was taken from you. 

maybe you should start finding ways to reclaim them. like sayuri, who's hidden in the back of your closet – like trust in people, your works, your courage to look for all things bright and kind. maybe your new companions could help you. 

maybe.

so many  _ maybes _ , almost as many as  _ nevers.  _

you close your eyes and toy with an image of faceless violence, hands devoid of bodies which are holding knives and katanas, the blades sinking into your skin, cutting out intricate patterns. it helps you – imagining how easy it would be to die.

_ you're just as bad as him. _

maybe you shouldn't change, in the end. the roses are beautiful, but if you don't reach for them, you won't get pricked by their scalpel-sharp thorns.   
so you are going to remain alone. this time, however, it is your choice.

 

* * *

 

_ann/shiho. youth_

 

There's something unique about the middle of the night — around three, four, when morning is coming, but the sun has yet to rise. Even the air feels different, as Ann breathes it in; it's cold and fresh, and the city lights sparkle outside the window as she looks down. When a pair of familiar, strong arms wrap around her middle, she leans back into the embrace.

"Did I ever tell you how beautiful your eyes are?" Shiho murmurs, her breath warm where it tickles the skin under Ann's ear.

"That's such a cheesy line," Ann whispers back. "You're lucky it works on me."

"I really am the lucky one." Shiho pulls her to the bed; they lie on top of the covers, face to face with their legs and arms tight around each other. Reaching out to move an errant strand of hair from Ann's eyes, Shiho repeats, "Your eyes are gorgeous in this light. I love them. I love you." She kisses Ann, briefly, tenderly. "I'm so, so lucky, that it's just unfair."

"It's totally fair." Ann runs her thumb over the golden band on her ring finger, still unused to the sensation of having it on, yet knowing it's just a matter of time to let it sink in.

She doesn't ever want to go back to sleep. Doesn't even want this moment to stop. For a moment, all that exists is how Shiho's hand curls over hers, and how perfect she is in this three o'clock light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a/n
> 
>  
> 
>   * **cw: depression; general negativity; abuse allusions; death discussion; self-harm discussion;**
>   * sorry for not posting anything in, like, over a month (and not updating this collection since november)!!! :v in my defense: adulting hard
>   * #1 - makoann Great. i love these lesbians!!! *ok hand emoji* 
>   * #2 - requested by my friend @pandoracorn, like *checks tumblr quickly* seven months ago. lmao. anyway. ryushima's cute. 
>   * #3 - vent fic. what can i say. you cannot tell me yusuke's not a depressed bitch. (title inspired by daughter's 'amsterdam').
>   * #4 - requested by my gf @cytrynisz (@Kinioludek here) on tumblr c: so, yeah, to honor our lesbianism, i wrote them some lesbians. whee
> 


**Author's Note:**

>   * please comment/kudo after reading, that'd mean a lot! remember, us writers need [coffee](https://ko-fi.com/A655IW0) and lotta validation to live c;
>   * title from vienna teng's 'goodnight new york', summary from 'too much is never enough' by florence and the machine. owo
> 



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